


Ridiculous names

by peptalkrobodt



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anderfels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Original Character(s), Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:04:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6024838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peptalkrobodt/pseuds/peptalkrobodt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders meets a shapeshifting mage from the Anderfels, who becomes the clinic's guard cat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ridiculous names

**Author's Note:**

> please forgive me for my sins I just love this OC so much his name is Teddy pls be nice

‘Anders’, he’d called himself, as if that weren’t entirely ridiculous. He was pale, his accent was entirely southern and he smelled faintly of wet dog; so Ferelden it hurt. I wondered why he chose ‘Anders’ of all things, but after a while, my curiosity shifted. 

He’d startled when he first found me, as I suspect anyone would upon seeing a crow unfold into a man, as I tend to do. I won’t pretend that I wasn’t also rather alarmed by his presence; the field had seemed empty when I’d flown over it. Perhaps the weariness had made me careless in my scouting. Despite all of this, he had been far more curious than afraid, and he approached me with wide, excited eyes, and I might have fallen for him then, had I had time to think about it. He asked me who I was, but in my own panic, I’d forgotten how to speak the king’s tongue.

We sat for a while, attempting to understand each other. He mentioned his cat with a ridiculous name, and I laughed harder than I had done in months, and turned myself into my cat form. Small and black and sleek, and if I may say, incredibly handsome. He’d gasped, and I think I knew from that moment that I needed to stay.

There were Templars in the Anderfels, but they were not at all like they were in Kirkwall. Anders had mentioned their cruelty, but it had not been until I saw it through my own eyes that I understood.

I circled the gallows, enjoying the feel of wind in my feathers and the salt spray from the sea, when I heard a scream. Looking down, I saw a man in blinding armour; obnoxious, holding the hair of a small woman, twisted viciously in his gauntlet as he forced her to the ground. She cried, and he laughed, and I shat on him in anger. 

He yelled in outrage, enough to let the girl escape, and there was nothing he could do about a simple crow. I laughed and flew away, keen to tell Anders of my victory. 

I changed again at the entrance of the undercity, in a dark corner where the only sign of life were the rats that made my new, feline mouth water. They would avoid their deaths for now, as I had other goals in mind, and I meandered through the dank tunnels, sniffing curiously at the feet of excited children. They pet me, and I purred, and another obnoxious glint of metal caught my eye. A small band of Templars. 

The place so ridiculously and accurately named ‘Darktown’ was not very large, and even a group of three Templars stood a chance of uncovering Anders’ operation. I ran. 

The children would be safe; the Templars were on a witch hunt, after all. My heart pounded as I came to the door of the clinic. I puffed out my fur and darted inside to warn my new friend.


End file.
